Escape Artist
by whytewytch
Summary: Baby Loki is starting to walk. A terrifying time in any parent's life, let alone if you're the parent of a god. This is #3 in my "Family" series. #1: The Foundling, #2: Baby Brother.


"Where is Loki?" Frigga shook Brunhild's shoulders to rouse her. While Frigga and Fulla had been off making arrangements for a state dinner, the new young maid had been watching the baby. In theory.

Brunhild blinked sleepily, then opened her eyes wide at the concern on her queen's face. She hadn't meant to fall asleep, but she had been working hard lately to earn more money for her family, and Baby Loki was a handful. The queen's question registered in her foggy brain and she glanced fearfully at the baby's playpen. It was empty. "I only sat by the fire for a moment, to rest my eyes while he napped." She jumped from her chair and ran around the room, looking under chairs and bureaus. She darted to the window—the shutters were closed, but panic had set in and reason was gone in a cloud of dust.

Frigga grabbed her and held her still. "Think, Brunhild. Loki was here when I left. Did someone come in and take him somewhere?" Loki had begun to walk, but was still quite wobbly. The child had virtually skipped over the crawling stage in an effort to be like his big brothers, particularly Thor.

"I remember hearing Odin outside the door. It sounded like he was talking to someone." Her eyes misted over. "But my eyes were so heavy. I thought I heard the door open, but it seemed a dream. My Lady, we must find him. If anything has happened to the young prince…."

Frigga rubbed the girl's arm. Loki could not have gotten far, but there was plenty of mischief and danger in the castle. "I will try to See him. Be silent a moment." Frigga closed her eyes and reached out magically. She found his body's magical signature, trying to sort today's movements from the hundreds of other times the boy had been in this room. A headache began to form as she sorted the strands, pushing aside the darker ones and pulling out the brighter ones. She finally found the brightest one, the most recent and began to follow it, calling upon her seidr training to only follow what _had_ been and avoid changing what _would_ be.

She made her way to the door, Brunhild following in her peripheral vision. She ignored the maid and strode down the hallway, eyes still closed, but able to see everything in the magical spectrum. The strand got brighter as she followed it to the stairs, her heart in her throat. She heaved a sigh of relief as she saw it continued on past the bottom of the stairs. She hurried to the ground level and followed the trail to the tall oaken doors in the back of the palace that led to the training ground.

She heard an angry shout—Thor—and then a squeal of pain. A moment later, she rounded a corner and found Loki laying in the snow in nothing but his diaper. Thor stood over him, his little wooden sword raised above his head. Loki's face was red with his frustration, but as he looked over and saw his mother, his expression softened and he began to cry. Thor turned, his features gone pale. He began to back up, but his way was blocked by the blue juniper bushes that edged that side of the training grounds. Beyond the bushes, the men had stopped sparring, noting the presence of their queen.

"He was following me, Mother. He's always following me! And he tried to take my sword."

Frigga was so relieved at finding Loki that she wasn't even angry—much. "Thor, give me your sword. Brunhild, take Thor inside. He should be at his lessons, not out here to begin with. Perhaps Master Aevar could work in some lessons on manners and following rules."

Frigga picked up Loki and wrapped him in her cloak, holding him against her body to warm him. His tears slowed, but Thor's began. "It's not fair, Mother! He's always following me and I didn't do anything and—"

"Thor. That is quite enough."

Odin appeared, having spotted Frigga across the yard. "What is going on here?"

"Father! Loki followed me and he tried to take my sword and now Mother is sending me to Master Aevar because I was bad. I just want to practice with you and Baldur, Father!"

Odin glanced down at the earnest expression on Thor's face. The boy's lower lip was wobbling, his eyes watering, his hand red where it gripped the sword. "Frigga, what say you take the babe inside and I'll teach Thor his manners today?"

Frigga snorted. "You? In order to teach a skill, one must possess it."

Odin reached over the bushes and picked Thor up, placing him down and giving him a pat on the bottom to send him to Baldur and the other youths. "Ever the sharp tongue, my sweet." Baldur smiled as he saw Thor approaching and Thor ran the rest of the way to his older brother. Odin leaned back over the juniper bush and pulled Frigga's head toward him, whispering in her ear. "Perhaps you can give me some lessons this evening, my love?"

Frigga pushed him away with her free arm, slapping his chest and smiling at him, a smile of resignation. "You are incorrigible, you know that."

"It's what you love most about me. That and my…."

"Odin! Mind your words in front of the child." She gestured with her chin toward Brunhild, who was beet red.

"What? I meant my charming smile. I don't know what in the Nine Realms you were thinking of, Woman." He grinned unashamedly and turned to saunter back toward the boys, calling out loudly for them to stop slacking about and get back to practice.

Frigga rolled her eyes, then glanced down at the baby, who was watching her, his blue eyes glistening with his adoration for her. She walked back toward the door, pausing when she reached it. Brunhild reached for the handle, but Frigga stopped her. "Loki, darling. How did you manage to get outside?"

The handles were far too high up for his unsteady little legs. He giggled and waved a hand. Tendrils of green and gold reached out and opened the door. Frigga groaned, then smiled at the child's obvious need for her approval. She was going to have her hands full with this boy.


End file.
